


Just Slip Me On

by nubianamy



Category: Glee
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-06 03:30:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1101866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nubianamy/pseuds/nubianamy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finn doesn't like that Kurt is unhappy, and resolves to do something about it.  Set between seasons 2 and 3.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Slip Me On

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CA_Babs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CA_Babs/gifts).



> This fic is for CA_Babs in celebration of a Tumblr milestone. Some Kinn fluff & smut for you, dear, and I hope you enjoy it.

Finn knew when he saw Kurt lugging around the thick, firm pillow from his bed that things were not good between him and Blaine.  He didn’t figure out why until several months after Burt and his mom’s wedding.

He could tell the summer had not been easy for the two of them.  More than one time, Kurt had come home from a date with Blaine looking frustrated and grumpy.  He’d gone to his room, gotten the big pillow, and brought it to the couch, sitting with it in his lap while he stared at whatever was playing on the screen.  

Finn didn’t feel comfortable asking Kurt about it.  After the faggy lamp incident, he’d been very careful not to bring up things about Kurt’s love life — really, anything that addressed the awkward energy that still existed between them. Even the dance at the wedding had been kind of  heavier than he’d anticipated.  Kurt had danced with him, but it hadn’t been as funny and sweet as Finn had anticipated.  He’d been caught by the look in Kurt’s eyes, shining and a little reproachful, and he’d kind of wanted to apologize and kind of wanted to sweep him off his feet.  In the end, he hadn’t managed either.  At least his mother had loved it.  

The third time Kurt had come home from a bad date with Blaine, his mouth tight and his eyes hard, Finn had sat with him on the couch while Kurt held the pillow.  Eventually he’d gathered up enough guts to say something.

“You guys having trouble?” he said, as sympathetically as he could manage.

Kurt looked away.  “Yeah.”

“Man, that’s rough.”

He picked at the zipper on the edge of the pillow. “Every time I think it’s better, it gets complicated again.  And now Blaine’s talking about coming to McKinley next year.”

Finn felt an uneasy prickle.  “Well, that’s good, right?  You’d get to see him more often.”

“I know.  That would be nice.  But he’s… I don’t know.  It doesn’t feel like he’s doing it because he wants to see _me._   It’s because he wants me to see more of _him._   He’s showing off.”  Kurt sighed, hugging the pillow.  “I don’t like it.  Why can’t he just be himself?  That’s plenty.”

Finn reached out and patted Kurt’s shoulder awkwardly.  “Sorry, man.  I wish I could help.”

Kurt gave him a watery smile.  “Thanks, Finn.”

It wasn’t like things were really any better for him and Rachel.  He’d agreed to be her boyfriend the year before, and then things had fallen apart, and after Nationals he’d made kind of a fool of himself on stage, but she’d wanted to date him again anyway.  They’d agreed to spend the summer making an attempt at being real boyfriends and girlfriends again, but it didn’t take him long to realize that he just couldn’t tolerate being around her for very long.  

It wasn’t _bad._   It was just… not very good.  He could tell, from Rachel’s wistful expression at the end of their dates, that she thought so too. He didn’t talk about it with Kurt, but he thought it gave him a better sense of empathy for what Kurt and Blaine were going through.  He tried to convey this with brotherly hugs and being a listening ear, but it was clear Kurt needed something else.   He just couldn’t figure out what it was.

One night, after Kurt and his pillow had retired to his room, Finn was sitting in his own room, and he heard a sound coming from Kurt’s room next door.  It sounded like Kurt was crying.  Silently, he got to his feet and crept to Kurt’s door, putting an ear to it and listening.  Yes, that was definitely crying.

“Kurt?” he called softly.  “You okay?”

Kurt was clearly not okay.  They’d never talked about the sanctity of a closed door, not in specific terms, but Finn pretty much trusted that when his door was closed, it wouldn’t be opened except in the case of an emergency.  

 _Emergency,_ in the past, had always mean _fire_ or _flood._   It hadn’t meant _Kurt is crying and he needs me._   But, maybe, that was an emergency too, Finn decided.  

He turned the knob and pushed the door open, as quietly and unobtrusively as he could manage.  But when he saw what was happening inside, he stopped in the doorway.  He couldn’t bring himself to go any further, but he also couldn’t step out and close the door again.

Kurt was… not crying.  Not exactly.  He was on his stomach on the bed, raised up a little on his knees.  It took Finn a moment to realize what was supporting him.  _The pillow,_ he thought, with a flush of awareness.  _Kurt’s got the pillow underneath him._

He was thrusting slowly against the pillow with deliberate strokes.  Every time his hips made contact, he let out a little cry.  It wasn’t exactly an unhappy noise, Finn realized, as he stood there listening.  It made him lightheaded, hearing Kurt make that noise.  

Finn watched him grinding into the pillow for several minutes.  Kurt’s pace never changed, but eventually, his noises did, growing higher and breathier, until finally he stopped the motion of his hips, holding very still, poised against the pillow.  He stayed like that for at least thirty seconds.  Finn didn’t count, but he held his breath, and he was sure he couldn’t hold his breath for more than thirty seconds.  

Then Kurt resumed his deliberate, slow strokes.  This time it took a much shorter time for him to reach the point where he was panting and cooing, but he stopped just as before, holding his body absolutely still, his hips canted forward.  Finn could see the muscles in his ass quivering.  

And then, without warning, Kurt thrust hard and fast, his hands clutching at the covers.  His face was buried in his softer pillow, muffling the groans of his release.  Finn watched with frozen fascination at the rhythmic clenching of Kurt’s asshole, pink and rosy and —

He let out his breath with a sigh.  And Kurt’s body stopped thrusting.  

Finn wondered, for a brief, heart-stopping moment, if he should try to get away.  But somehow the idea of doing that felt worse than the idea of being caught.  He stayed in the doorway as Kurt sat up on his knees, clutching the covers against him, and stared, wide-eyed and disheveled, at Finn.  

Finn couldn’t even bring himself to say _I’m sorry._ He just stared back at him.

Finally, after a million years, Kurt climbed out of bed, dragging the sheet in front of him.  Instead of looking at Kurt’s red cheeks, Finn kept his eyes on the glistening wet pillow on Kurt’s bed.  He stood there until Kurt closed the door in his face.  

Then he turned around and went back to his room.  He sat on his bed, thinking about what he’d seen. About the way he had watched Kurt.  It had been very deliberate, what he’d done.  

The image in his head when he put his hand on his rock-hard cock and stroked it, through his pajama pants, not even bothering to reach inside, was the one of Kurt’s asshole, winking in and out in rhythm with the release of his body.  It was such a compelling image that he found himself waking up in the middle of the night to jack off again, thinking about it.  

The next morning at breakfast, Kurt wouldn’t meet his eyes.  They sat at the table together, Finn eating his two bowls of Puffins cereal without milk and Kurt with his egg-white omelette.  All the while Finn wanted to say so many different conflicting things that he ended up saying nothing at all.  Kurt said nothing, either.  Eventually they both got up and picked up their bags, heading for the door.  

“Finn,” Kurt said.  Finn looked up at Kurt.  His eyes were clear.  “You want a ride to school?”

Finn breathed out slowly.  “Sure.  Thanks.”

* * *

It was a few weeks before Finn heard Kurt make those crying noises again.  He knew what they were this time.  He could even track Kurt’s progress, from the rhythmic slow thrust, to the first pause, to the second build-up.  This time there were three rounds before he hit the final explosive finish.  Finn held his breath each time Kurt stopped, and he waited until Kurt was completely done to reach down between his own legs and finish himself off.  It had never taken a long time for him to reach climax, but after these sessions of Kurt’s, it took him less than thirty seconds, and it was always intense and accompanied by plenty of vivid images of Kurt on his bed, kneeling over that extra-firm, extra-fluffy pillow. 

Kurt didn’t bring it out of his room anymore.  The next time he and Blaine had a hard night, Finn found Kurt alone on the couch, looking awkwardly grumpy.  It was the first time during the whole situation that Finn felt at all bad.  

“You could go get your pillow,” he said, and Kurt went red.

“No,” he snapped.  “I couldn’t.”

Finn nodded understanding.  Then, with a sudden thought, he suggested, “You could hug me instead.”

Kurt looked up at him.  His eyes were a little wet, but he didn’t appear to be upset by the idea.  After a moment, he bit his lip and nodded.

“How?” he asked.

Finn thought about the way Kurt had held the pillow on the couch.  He moved over, carefully climbing over Kurt’s legs, and put one arm around him. Letting Kurt slide both arms around his middle might not be exactly like holding the pillow in his lap, but it appeared to be close enough, because Kurt sighed and rested his head against Finn’s side, and they sat like that watching television together for a long time. 

Before he went to bed, Kurt hugged Finn again.  It was harder than their usual hugs, and Kurt didn’t seem to want to let go.  

Finn heard the crying noises before he’d even taken his pajamas out of the drawer.  It hurt his heart to hear them, knowing with certainty that he had been helping on the couch, but he didn’t have anything he could do now.  

Eventually, the cries drew him back to stand in Kurt’s doorway again, waiting until the first lull hit to open the door.  He figured at least that way Kurt could hear him come in. 

Kurt was there on his stomach on the bed, the pillow beneath him, his ass tensed, poised and quivering.  He wasn’t certain Kurt knew he was there until the second round, when Kurt stopped and gasped, “Finn.”

It was way more of a turn-on than he expected, to hear his own name, spoken in Kurt’s voice, at that moment.  Finn’s hand dropped to his thigh.  “Yeah?”

He heard Kurt’s shaky breathing.  “I was just… checking.”

“I’m here,” he said.  “I’m not… I mean, that’s all.  I’m here.”

Kurt nodded, his face rustling against the pillow.  The _other_ pillow.  “I’m glad.”

“Yeah?” Finn asked, feeling surprised.  But the answer made sense.  Kurt had needed him, on the couch.  He needed him now.  

When Kurt picked up his slow, careful thrusts again, Finn’s hand twitched.  The higher and breathier Kurt’s cries became, the closer Finn’s thumb came to his own cock, stroking through his jeans.  When Kurt paused the third time, Finn gripped himself tightly, trying not to groan.  

Kurt turned his head.  It wasn’t enough to see his face, but Finn could sense him listening.  “You, too?”

“Yeah,” Finn said apologetically.

“No, I mean… you, too.”

“Oh.”  Finn squeezed again.  “You don’t mind?”

“No, I want you to.”

He didn’t have to ask twice.  Finn worked his zipper down over his monster hard-on, holding himself loosely now.  Then he waited, watching Kurt.  Kurt watched him right back.  

“I said you could —“

“Not until you do,” Finn said.

That was apparently some kind of trigger for Kurt, because he immediately started thrusting into his pillow.  He was moaning loud enough that Finn was certain his mom and Burt would hear them downstairs.  Finn wasn’t sure if it was okay for him to be loud, too, but some noises escaped anyway as he spilled over his pumping fist.  He sank to the floor, dabbing at the spots that had fallen onto Kurt’s floor with the hem of his t-shirt.

“Finn,” Kurt said, panting, his voice muffled.

“Yeah?”

There was a silence.  Finn looked up, but Kurt’s face was still buried in the pillow.  Eventually Finn stood, backing out of the room.  

“That was, uh.”  He had no adequate words for what it had been, but Finn felt like he should say something.  “Thank you.  And, uh, sleep well.”

After coming like that, Finn should have slept like a rock, but his sleep was interrupted by frequent attempts by his brain to fill in the spaces in what he’d seen.  The moments before, when Kurt was getting ready, placing the pillow on the center of the bed.  The experience of bringing himself that close, over and over again.  The expression on Kurt’s face as he climaxed.  

The last time he woke, Finn gave up and brought himself off again, lying on his stomach like Kurt did, thrusting into the channel of his own hand.  Then sleep came like a freight train, bowling him over and leaving nothing but sticky, confusing silence behind.

* * *

Finn didn’t come to Kurt’s room every time.  When he heard Kurt’s noises, it was hard to resist, but sometimes he stayed in his own room, listening but not touching himself, until long after Kurt had gone to bed.  Other times when he heard Kurt begin, he jerked off immediately, coming quickly so he could enjoy Kurt’s extended progression without distraction.  Occasionally he got hard again before Kurt was done, but he would make himself wait so the second time, he and Kurt would come at the same time.  He wondered if Kurt could hear his groans.  

Standing in the door and watching him became a fairly regular thing, though, and when he did that, he’d always wait for Kurt to prompt him to join in.  That was so hot, Finn barely had to touch himself at all to reach climax.

Kurt and Blaine were doing better, it seemed, but they still had bad nights.  On those nights when no one else in their family was around, Finn would sit on the couch next to Kurt until he was ready to talk, and then he would offer an arm, and Kurt would kind of wind himself around Finn, holding him around the middle.  Sometimes he’d talk about Blaine, and Finn would do his best to make sympathetic noises and not get pissed off at the way Blaine was treating him.  Other times Kurt wouldn’t say anything, and that was okay too.  

Sometimes he’d get turned on, cuddling with him like that, or Kurt would get turned on. Finn knew what Kurt would do after he left.  Other times it wasn’t about that, and it just felt like Kurt needed someone to hold.  The hardest part was when Kurt got up from the couch to go to bed and left him there.  It clearly wasn’t enough, but Finn wasn’t sure what else he could do.

On one particularly bad night, Kurt came home from his date crying.  He didn’t even bother with the couch; he just went right to Finn and wrapped his arms around him, burying his face in his chest.  

“Hey,” Finn said, stroking his hair while Kurt breathed in and out, trying to calm down.

“He doesn’t _understand,”_ he said at last.  “And I feel so — so _alone._ Even when we’re together.”

“Holding something helps?” Finn asked.

“Yeah,” Kurt whispered.  Finn held his breath before saying the next words, not wanting Kurt to take them the wrong way, but finally he decided there was no wrong way.

“You could hold me,” he said.  

“I am holding you.”

“No, I mean… in your bed.  I could be there.  I mean, if you think it would help.”

There was a long silence, during which Finn chewed on his lip and wondered if maybe he _had_ said the wrong thing after all.  Then Kurt leaned back, looking up at Finn soberly.

“You want to sleep with me in my bed?”

“If you think it would help,” Finn repeated.

Kurt began to shake his head, but then he stopped that and nodded instead.  “Yes,” he said, so there would be no confusion.  “Yes, I… think it would help.”

Finn didn’t say the words _this is cheating,_ but he was pretty sure Kurt was thinking them as he led the way to his bedroom.  Finn went next door to change into a pair of pajamas first, but they both knew that a layer of cloth wasn’t going to be much of a barrier between them.  

Sitting beside Kurt on his bed felt completely different from sitting next to him on the couch.  That was a public space, where anybody could come in and see them together.  Even their snuggling was acceptable, if a little eccentric for stepbrothers.  But Kurt’s room, that was private.  Intimate.  Finn turned to him, wondering if he should talk about it, but he didn’t want to ruin the moment.  So he just said, “Good night,” and Kurt turned off the light.  

He felt Kurt’s arm beside him when he climbed in under the covers.  It was easy to tuck himself into the curve of that arm, to feel Kurt cuddling up behind him, holding him with his hand resting on Finn’s chest.  It felt so familiar and wonderful.  He wasn’t at all surprised to relax back into that embrace and to feel Kurt’s erection pressing against his hip.

“This is really nice,” Kurt said.  “Thank you.”

“You think it’ll help?”

“I know it will.  It already has.”

Finn pressed back against Kurt’s erection.  The noise Kurt made was too small to be heard outside his bed, but Finn caught it.  

“Any other way I could help?”

Kurt let out his breath slowly.  “You’re… being very generous here.”

“I honestly don’t think it’s just about you, Kurt.” He nudged back again.  This time the noise was a little higher.  “I don’t mind being… your pillow.”

“Oh, god,” Kurt whispered.  “My — Finn, I don’t think I’m ready to — I mean, _you’ve_ never — have you?”

It didn’t take Finn long to follow Kurt’s train of thought, and his entire body flushed.  “No, no,” he said hastily, “I just mean… you could rub against me.  Like you do with your pillow.  I could do that.”

Kurt was still breathing hard, but he was already lifting himself up on one knee to straddle Finn’s hip.  He shifted a little lower, and then slowly lowered himself down to rest on top of Finn.  

“You’re sure this is okay,” Kurt demanded.  

“I am so sure,” Finn agreed.  He’d already jammed his hand inside his pajamas and was holding his cock.  “I’m just… I’m going to come in about five seconds, here.”

“That’s okay.  I’m going to take longer.  You get to come as fast as you want to.”

Finn laughed shakily.  “It’s not even a question of want to.  This is just that hot.  Listening to you… even from my room, through the wall.”

Kurt made his first slow thrust against Finn’s leg, and his breath caught.  “I know.  I thought I knew, anyway, before you even… after that first time, in my doorway.”

“Yeah.”  Finn started stroking, feeling Kurt’s weight on top of him, the measured, deliberate motions of Kurt’s hips that had become so familiar.  “God.  I don’t think I exactly realized, until then.  But it was kind of… obvious, after that.”

“Yeah.”  Kurt let out one soft cry, and Finn felt himself begin to shake.  “I really never stopped… wanting that with you, but I didn’t quite know you wanted… oh god, Finn… until that happened.”

Finn let go of his cock and reached up to touch Kurt’s hand where it was braced on the bed, holding himself up.  “I’m gonna — do you want to feel?”

“Yeah,” Kurt moaned, sliding his hand down under the hem of Finn’s pajama pants, “yeah, I want to — oh my god, Finn, you’re so hard —“

“Just for you,” he promised, closing his eyes.  “Only for you.”

Kurt didn’t seem to care about the mess inside Finn’s pants after he came; he paused, the same as always, keeping his hips pinned.  The fact that it was against Finn’s hip instead of the pillow made it all that much more excruciating.  Finn could feel the throbbing of his dick, trapped between them.  He wished he could reach in and touch it, but Kurt didn’t seem to use his hands when he did this alone, either, and Finn didn’t want to interfere.

“Do you want me to — let go of you?” Kurt asked.

“Only if you want to?  It still feels good.”

Kurt squeezed him gently.  He sounded a little dazed.  “You’re _still_ hard.”

“Yeah, I usually stay that way after.  Sometimes I can come again before it goes away.”

Kurt made another one of those appealing cries, and resumed his motion.  It seemed even slower and more intentional than usual.  “I’m… maybe I should try not to think about that too much.”

“About what?”  Finn inched a hand down to rest on Kurt’s hip.  He could feel the tension in his muscles, the amount of control Kurt was exerting just to move this slowly.  Kurt stopped, and Finn paused his hand.  “Is this okay?”

“Yes.  Yes.  It’s… so okay.  I’m trying not to come too soon.”

“That’s okay, too, if you do.”

Finn could feel Kurt’s ass clench, then release.  This time his cry was more like a sigh.  “I just don’t want you to go.”

“Oh.”  Finn let his hand cup the curve of his ass.  He squeezed it, feeling Kurt clench again.  “I don’t have to go.”

Kurt was silent for a long time after that.  He cycled through several series of thrust-clench-release, thrust-clench-release against Finn’s hip, interspersed with pauses.  During these Finn held very still, but while he was thrusting, Finn felt freer to brush his hand over Kurt’s skin.  He didn’t know what Kurt would do if he touched him between the cheeks, where he remembered the pucker of Kurt’s asshole waited, contracting with its own rhythm.  

“I think if we do that, somebody’s going to notice,” Kurt said finally, his voice strained.

“I think you might be right,” Finn agreed.

Kurt paused again.  “Finn.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to come.  Would you kiss me?  Please?”

Finn didn’t wait for Kurt to finish his sentence.  He slid his hand up Kurt’s back and twisted his body to face Kurt as best as he could, wiggling his pajama pants down as he went.  Kurt’s own quick thrusts shifted as he strained for Finn’s mouth.  By the time Finn finally felt the hot pulse of Kurt’s first burst of wetness, Kurt was thrusting against the skin of his stomach instead of his hip, making those perfect little cries.  He kissed Kurt hard, keeping Kurt firmly in place as he writhed.  

When Kurt was done — it seemed to go on forever — Finn’s dick was coated with Kurt’s come.  Somehow it felt different than his own.  He kept his hands on Kurt’s head, his neck, his shoulders.

“You’re _still_ hard.”

“Again.  Hard again.”  He wasn’t sure if the kissing thing was okay, now that the coming thing was over, but he ventured to press his lips against Kurt’s cheek.  Kurt shuddered a little, but didn’t object.  “Again is different from still.”

“Mmmm.”  Kurt seemed to be a little out of it, his eyes closed, his lips slack.  

“In a minute I might need to — do that again, if we keep — the kissing thing.”  

“Do what?”

“To come again.”

Kurt shuddered again, more violently, and he twitched against Finn’s hip.  “I’m going to ask you for something, and I want you to say no if you don’t want to, even a little bit.”

Finn wanted to tell Kurt that he wasn’t going to say no to him, but he thought that knowing that might make Kurt feel anxious, so he just nodded.  

“I want you to — to be inside me.  When you come.”

The idea was overwhelming enough that Finn didn’t answer right away, and Kurt added hurriedly, “If that feels like too much, just say no.  I won’t be offended.”

“It feels like… a big deal?”  He clutched Kurt to him a little harder.  “Like, that might mean… something about us.”  Then he laughed.  “As if this doesn’t already mean something? I don’t even know what we’re doing.”

“Yeah.”  Kurt sounded sad.  “If I’m going to be honest, I just didn’t want to miss my chance, if this is it.”

Finn paused.  “Oh.  Oh, Kurt.  You think I’m — that we’re never going to do this again?”

“I don’t know,” he moaned.  “I don’t _know,_ and I’m sorry, I never even thought I would get _this,_ and — maybe I’m feeling a little desperate.”

Finn kissed Kurt again, and again, and again until he stopped being so tense. Then he rocked his come-covered, hard-again-not-still-hard cock against Kurt’s belly, listening with abject delight to Kurt’s cooing cries, right in his own ear.

“You want me to tell you what I think we’re doing here? Not that you don’t get to say, too.”

Kurt nodded.

“I think…”  Finn touched his neck, feeling the warmth, the strength of Kurt’s pulse. “I think we’re just doing what we should have been doing all along.”

This time when Kurt sighed, he melted against Finn’s body a little.  “You really think that?”

“I also thing I don’t really want to keep trying to hide it from everybody.  And maybe we should talk to Rach and Blaine tomorrow.  And my mom and Burt.”

“Wow.”  His voice was hushed.  “You would do that for me?”

“No, I’d do that for me.”

Kurt had surprisingly strong arms for such a slender guy.  Finn protested a little when Kurt hugged him, but he laughed while he did it, so Kurt would know he didn’t want him to stop, and hugged him back.  

“You’re incredible.”  He lifted himself off Finn’s body and sat back, rearranging his hair.  “And if this really isn’t the only time we’re going to do this...”

“Definitely not the only time,” Finn agreed.  

“Then there’s no rush.  And maybe just sleeping here together is enough of a big step tonight.”

“I think we took a whole lot of big fucking steps tonight, Kurt.”

They spent a couple minutes cleaning up, in and out of Kurt’s bathroom, but neither one of them was making any move toward leaving.  When Kurt climbed back into bed and held the covers open for Finn, he was smiling.

“What _are_ we going to tell everybody?”

Finn pulled the sheet and comforter up over both of them.  “I don’t know.  Do you know what you want?  Because I don’t think I even know that.”

“No?  I think we’ve been doing pretty well, asking for things we want.”  Kurt leaned in and kissed him.  It felt so easy, so warm and exactly perfect.  “Maybe we could just start by asking each other for things.”

“Right now?”

“Sure.  Unless you’d rather spend this time kissing.”

“Can we do both?” Finn asked hopefully.

Kurt laughed.  “I think, yeah?”  The next kiss was longer, but neither one of them seemed desperate, knowing they weren’t going anywhere.  “Do you want to go first, or should—“

“I want to be able to kiss you,” Finn said.  “And hug you.  Anywhere.  Without anybody freaking out about it.”

“Wow.  That’s… kind of ambitious, for Ohio.”

“Well, maybe we shouldn’t live in Ohio.”

Kurt stared at him.  “Finn, this conversation is suddenly getting a lot more serious than I’d expected.”

“You didn’t think I was serious about you?”

“I didn’t think you were _anything_ about me.”

Finn reached under the covers and found all of Kurt, gathering him up in his arms and legs and holding on for a few seconds before he said anything else.  

“I am _so_ something about you.  I am so something, I didn’t want to risk screwing it up by telling you that.  But you kind of found out anyway.”

Kurt’s voice shook a little.  “This is about more than you watching me masturbate in my doorway, isn’t it?”

Finn kissed him instead of answering.  That went on for a little while.  Finn thought maybe he might end up getting hard again _again,_ after all.  Kurt was really good at the kissing thing.

“Why don’t you tell me something _you_ want?” he suggested.

Kurt thought about it, his head resting on Finn’s arm.  “I want… to break up with Blaine.”

“Well, duh.”

“I’m not making any assumptions, here.  But being here with you these last couple weeks, it’s made it abundantly clear that Blaine and I aren’t giving one another what we need.  I think I owe it to him to tell him we’ve tried long enough.  And I want you to break up with Rachel.”

“Yeah,” Finn sighed.  “Yeah… I think I’m ready to do that.  I think I’d be ready to do that even if you and I weren’t doing the kissing thing.”

“Yeah?”  Kurt looked up at him, his eyes appearing very dark and blue in the light of Kurt’s desk lamp.  “But we are.  Doing the kissing thing.  You think you might want to… to be my boyfriend?”

Finn couldn’t help smile.  “I’m a little nervous about what other people might say, but yeah.  I want that.”

Kurt hugged him again.  While they did that, Finn thought about what Kurt had asked him for.  Yes, he had said _I want you to be my boyfriend,_ but before that, he’d said _I want you to be inside me when you come._   Thinking about that made the hugging even more intense.  

But Kurt was going on, and he didn’t sound like he was ready for more being turned on.  He still sounded worried.

“I’m a little nervous about what my _dad’s_ going to say.”

Finn frowned.  “You don’t think they’d try to keep us apart, do you?  Because I would definitely not be okay with that.”

“I don’t think they would, exactly.  But we probably won’t be able to sleep together at night like this.”

“Maybe not,” Finn agreed reluctantly.  “But I think we could come home every day after school and get in bed together anyway.”

That idea brought on a fresh round of kissing.  Finn could feel that he wasn’t the only one getting hard again.  

“Wow, I would really like that,” said Kurt.  “That makes me think that maybe we could actually handle this.”

“Of course we could.  We’re awesome.”

“Maybe we should get some sleep now.  It’s getting kind of late.”

Finn looked over at Kurt’s clock, which started with something beginning with one, and yawned. “As long as we can do more of this when we wake up in the morning?”

“I think I might have to, if you’re in bed with me, feeling like this.”

They managed to find a way to lie down and be pressed up against one another without it automatically being sexual, each of them stretching out on their back, one long leg against the other.

“You usually wear pajamas,” Finn pointed out.

“I’m usually not in bed with someone else.”

“But I mean, if you wanted to, you could —“

“Finn.  I don’t want to wear pajamas.”

“Okay,” Finn agreed, relieved.  “Me either.”

* * *

Every birthday after that, Finn gave Kurt a pillowcase.  Sometimes it was a joke pillowcase, with funny sayings on it or a picture of some hot guy actor or model, and sometimes it was a nice one, Egyptian cotton or bamboo or whatever, with a high thread count.  Regardless, he always included a card bearing the lyrics of the first verse from one of Kurt’s favorite musicals.  Kurt never did more than smile, and kiss him, and dress the fluffiest pillow on their bed with the pillowcase for the following week.

* * *

_Live in my house, I'll be your shelter_  
 _Just pay me back_  
 _With one thousand kisses  
_ _Be my lover, I'll cover you_


End file.
